Wizard: This witcher is neglecting his duties.

Chapter 82 Passion (Thanks to Xu Changqing for the generous donation)

The next morning, Geralt packed his bags early and rushed back to Vizima from the lumberyard in Revarden because Wayne was hosting a farewell and housewarming dinner.

After he left, Wayne was the only witcher left in the city, so after discussing it, the two of them resigned from their stable jobs in Revarden.

To be honest, Geralt was a little reluctant to leave this job. After being a Witcher for so many years, he had rarely encountered an employer as enlightened as Revarden. This job was leisurely, undisciplined, and paid well, making it the perfect job for slacking off.

In the camp, he was also respected by the other lumberjacks and managers, which made Geralt quite happy.

Unfortunately, demon hunters are born to protect people from monsters, which is also the purpose for which they were created by mages.

Wandering the world, upholding neutrality, and protecting more people are the principles that the old Witcher Vesemir taught his apprentices.

Although dealing with those troublesome people often ends in a very messy and unpleasant way, over the years, this philosophy has been deeply ingrained in the hearts of every Wolf School Witcher.

Leading his mount, Carrot, he pushed open the villa's gate and walked around the main house to the backyard. Suddenly, he discovered that besides Wayne's Lucifer, there were three other fine horses in the stable, which had already filled all four stalls.

Have any guests arrived?

Geralt glanced back at Carrot thoughtfully. The docile mare nuzzled his chin before being tied to the well post.

As soon as he entered the villa, a series of undisguised moans and groans of female pleasure emanated from Wayne's room on the second floor.

This discovery surprised and embarrassed Geralt. After not seeing his brother for a few days, he hadn't expected him to be so capable, having already brought two girls home.

He tiptoed, not wanting to disturb his brother's good time, and was about to grab a bottle of beer from the liquor cabinet to quench his thirst.

Suddenly I saw a short, stout middle-aged man with chestnut curly hair sitting at a table next to the liquor cabinet, drinking alone with a plate of peanuts, looking quite at ease.

Upon seeing Geralt, the man was not surprised. Instead, he raised his glass of red wine, seemingly inviting him to join him for a drink.

Geralt remained silent, considered for two seconds, then walked to the table, poured himself a large glass of dwarven beer from the oak barrel next to the liquor cabinet, and sat down next to him.

The man was quite enthusiastic, and his voice carried a warmth that was not found in ordinary people.

"Hey friend, you must be Geralt of Rivia, right?"

Upon closer inspection, Geralt noticed a crest on the short, stout man's chest bearing three black birds arranged in a row. With his limited knowledge of heraldry, he couldn't discern whether the man was a nobleman or a knight.

"Yes, I am Geralt. Are you Wayne's friend?"

Geralt's voice was hoarse and deep. People who met him for the first time were often frightened by his somewhat expressionless face, dry voice, and scars all over his face, and kept their distance from him.

However, the man in front of him showed no sign of anything amiss. Instead, he gave a rather amiable smile and jokingly said:

"Yes, even though we only met yesterday, Wayne will definitely become one of my best friends."

"My name is Borch, but my friends like to call me Three Crows."

"Unfortunately, Wayne's friend is currently busy dealing with two little wildcats! He's been busy since last night."

"The constant moaning and groaning keeps me awake at night."

"I've been drinking here all night. I must say, the stamina of you witchers is something every man would envy."

Borch's hearty humor and easygoing personality made Geralt feel quite comfortable.

He raised an eyebrow, took a big gulp of his dwarf beer, and then boasted with a hint of pride:

"That's true, Mr. Borch. Although we witchers cannot reproduce, we are the best bed partners."

"Ha, just like those foolish farmers say, even sorceresses are bewitched by our bodies."

"If you go and ask around in the brothels in the city, you might hear about my reputation: the white-haired hunk."

"Many of the beauties in Vijma are even willing to provide me with services for free."

Borch chuckled, handed Geralt the peanuts in front of him, and complimented him, saying:

"Wayne told me last night that you are one of the most powerful swordsmen in the North."

"Everyone says you have two swords, but now it seems you should have three, right?"

Borch's humor successfully tickled Geralt's funny bone, and the two of them couldn't help but burst into laughter.

At that moment, Wayne, wearing a thin linen shirt that revealed his muscular chest, came down from the second floor.

Seeing the two people at the table chatting so happily, he smiled, picked up a glass of red wine, and sat down in another seat.

"Seeing you two chatting so happily makes me feel relieved."

He looked at Geralt and then introduced him:

"Geralt, this is Mr. Borch, my friend and our next client."

Geralt raised an eyebrow upon hearing this, looked at Wayne with a puzzled expression, and said:

"A commission?"

"Ha, if I remember correctly, today should be my farewell dinner. I don't recall having any requests for the two of us to complete."

Wayne, completely unfazed by Geralt's slightly sarcastic tone, continued:

"A big commission, Geralt, 1,500 orens each, enough for you to spend for half a year."

"In the city of Holober, many people are organizing dragon-slaying teams to hunt a pregnant green dragon in the mountains."

Geralt was taken aback by the enormous reward, but after hearing its contents, he frowned and said:

"Green dragon? Dragon slaying?"

"Wayne, you should know that I do not kill dragons, whether they are evil dragons or any other kind of dragon. No matter how much money you offer me, I will not hunt dragons."

Wayne patted Geralt on the shoulder, signaling him to calm down, and then said:

"Don't worry, Geralt, this dragon is very important to Mr. Borch. He paid a lot of money to hire us, not to slay dragons, but to protect this dragon and prevent her from being killed by other dragon-hunting teams."

"And this dragon isn't some evil dragon at all; she's just a pitiful mother trying to protect her child from harm."

Geralt paused for a few seconds after hearing this, glanced at Borch, then at Wayne beside him, and said in a somewhat subdued voice:

"Slaying a dragon is no small matter."

"This matter definitely involves many other forces. Wayne, as witchers, perhaps we shouldn't get involved. Associating with too many forces often leads us into conspiracies."

"Vesemir must have taught you this principle back then."

Seeing that Geralt seemed to want to lecture him, Wayne immediately pulled out his trump card.

He raised his hand to interrupt Geralt's sermon, glanced at him, and said:

"It is indeed a bit troublesome. I heard from Kayla that there is a sorceress named Yennefer who is also going to participate in this dragon slaying for some special reason."

"Geralt, my brother, I think I've heard you mention before that you also knew a sorceress named Yennefer."

Do you think they might be the same person?

Upon hearing Yennefer's name, Geralt was immediately stunned. The last time he met his dream girl was several years ago.

Unable to bear Yennefer's somewhat perverse controlling nature, he quietly left one morning before Yennefer was fully awake.

Since then, the sorceress has been giving him the cold shoulder and seems to be intentionally avoiding him; the two haven't seen each other for several years.

It was unexpected to hear this name from Wayne, especially during such a dangerous dragon-slaying incident. How could Geralt, a sycophant, sit still like that?

He remained silent for several seconds, then looked up and saw Wayne's amused gaze. Still steeling himself, he said:

"But you're right, Wayne. Since it's about helping a friend and saving a kind green dragon, accepting this commission is what we should do."

After saying this, Geralt took a slightly awkward sip of beer, then coughed lightly and said:

"So, when do we set off? I think it's best to hurry, so as not to delay our important business."

(End of this chapter)